


That 2 AM Air Hit Different Tho

by autumnleavessilverwinds



Series: error 404 series name not found [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Abusive Parents, Angst, Bisexual GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Boys Kissing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Fluffy Moments, Food is Mentioned, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Kissing, Love Bites, M/M, Making Out, Outing, Queer Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Smoking, Swearing, controlling parents, george becomes a burrito, getting this up between all the crashes, it gets a little steamy, lol this was meant to be a smut fic and it's not, references to don't stop believin, sexy primes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 06:16:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28720302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autumnleavessilverwinds/pseuds/autumnleavessilverwinds
Summary: George and Dream make plans for ditching their shitty parents after George has a bit of a hard conversation. Oh, and they make out a bit and play Smash Bros. beforehand.~Or, something I wrote while dealing with the realization my parents aren’t all I used to think they were and listening to Lo-Fi music.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), dreamnotfound - Relationship, gream - Relationship, idk what you call it - Relationship
Series: error 404 series name not found [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2105313
Comments: 11
Kudos: 130





	That 2 AM Air Hit Different Tho

**Author's Note:**

> ay yo something traumatic happened that changed my life check—turns out my parents are emotionally and verbally abusive whenever I dare act queer so as a result your boy has trauma. So..yeah. I’ma see if I can move out somewhere but first I gotta clean my fucking room and shit so that’s gonna be fun.
> 
> Anyways, if you think you know me from somewhere else on ao3 ya don’t. if you’re an anti, fuck ya go attack the people writing underaged non-con fics and quit attacking other creators. You want someone to attack then aim your words at me. Call me an animal if you wish, but do not forget that beasts have claws and teeth and do not be surprised if I strike back.
> 
> If you’re George and dream, then I’ll listen but you antis just keep quiet. (Yes I know I’m mean I’ve been told that a hundred times by my parents this is where I go when I don’t feel like being nice)

“George! What the fuck!”

Throwing the controller down, Dream looked over at his boyfriend, laughing in that same wheezy way he always did. Looking over at him, George smiled and then threw Dream’s Link off the stage with a few buttons and plays. “You may be the best at Manhunt, but you ain’t got shit on me when it comes to Smash Bros, Dreamy.” He mused, leaning over and supporting himself on one elbow as he and Dream laid on the latter’s bed. Arching an eyebrow, George leaned closer, licking his lips softly. In the blue and red fairy lights Dream had thrown on his walls, his eyes seemed to be glittering like black onyx in sunlight.

Leaning close, Dream pressed his lips to George’s, grinning the whole time. There was always a kind of unique feeling to it, and Dream closed his eyes for a brief second just to breathe in the familiar scents all around him. “You smell like smoke.” He mused lightly. “Been hanging with someone?”

“Sister offered me one. Who am I to say no to a cigarette as a little fuck you to dear old mum and dad, eh?” Even though George had been living in the States for a little over a year, some of his accent had still stuck around. Secretly, Dream loved it, however much he teased him in public for it. He ran a thumb underneath George’s jawline, smiled when his boyfriend shivered. “You want to go for another round of smash?”

Chuckling, George met his gaze, pressed their foreheads together, and slyly asked, “Which kind of smash are you asking for? I still have the bruises from last time.” Dream laughed darkly, and George grinned back at him.

“I thought they’d have faded by now.” George started kissing him again, and the controllers were thrown aside for a moment. Rolling Dream onto his back, George kissed up his neck with a soft smile.

“Maybe I’ve been pressing into them just a little bit.” Dream laughed, dug his fingers into his sides delicately. “Just be careful not to mark me up too much tonight. _Hate_ to be getting into trouble at home.” Even though the tone was light, Dream relaxed his grip just a little, ran his hands down to George’s sides and touched there delicately. There were always boundaries he never crossed, wouldn’t dare to even think of it.

It hadn’t always been so blatantly clear between them. What had started as a few off-hand sentences of controlling behavior rapidly became something worse. George had casually mentioned how his parents called him names for being bisexual, how when he tried coming out they forced him back into the closet not once but twice and yelled at him both times, ripped away his friends and told him he was lucky for being allowed to have the ones that remained up in his room for any reason at all. Dream had watched it throughout senior year worsen and worsen. Of course, there was his own home life that he’d had to deal with—he hadn’t talked to his siblings in _months_ , not since he moved into his own apartment at eighteen.

Grabbing George’s wrists, Dream rolled them over and pinned George’s wrists above his head against the pillows, trailing his lips over the soft skin of his boyfriend’s neck. Green flannel covers sank underneath their weight, the white pillows buckling ever so slightly. Dream could wrap his whole hand around George’s wrists easily, had always been able to. Kissing underneath his jawline, Dream proposed, “Run away with me.” He whispered the words, hesitantly like he barely hoped they’d cross his lips. Underneath him, George’s heartrate sped up.

“What?”

Slowly, Dream sat up, pressing his weight onto George’s body. It wasn’t in a trapping way, he’d move the second George wanted him to. They’d had those talks before. But there was a way that he needed to remind his boyfriend _I’m here, I’m here to talk if you want and I love you past, present, and future._ “Run away with me. Let’s leave the town, put those motherfuckers in our rearview mirror and never look back. What do we have here? We could—we could go to New York. To Dallas.”

“Dream, I don’t—I can’t just leave my family—”

“What family?” For a moment, George looked wounded. Dream let him up and clutched his hands, kissing the backs of his knuckles. “George, they’re killing you. I love you, I don’t want to watch your spark just—I don’t want to watch your spark die out. Not like the others’ have. Who do we have left in this town? Our parents? They don’t care about us.”

“Dream, my sister—”

“Email here. Talk to her. Find some way to communicate.” Dream gently kissed George’s palm, watching him carefully. The second George’s eyes darted away, Dream stopped, waited for him to move. George’s hands trailed up his forearms, past faded pink scars where they scratched the inside of his wrists from nights he spent crying his eyes out, slashing and scratching his own body in an attempt to feel something, anything at all. “Please. George, I don’t want to see you go through what I did.”

“I don’t—but I don’t want to leave her.”

“How old is your sister, George?” Dream asked, and he looked at Dream for a second. Straightening up a little, he continued, “Why don’t you text her. Don’t you remember how she looked in September, when she was at Northridge? How did she look then?”

Sighing, George mused, “You think she’s staying for my sake.”

“If I were in her situation, twenty years old and taking online classes while my eighteen-year-old, fresh-out-of-high-school brother is being verbally abused by my parents…yes. I would. One hundred percent, in a heartbeat.” Looking away, Dream continued, “I left my family because I knew that Tris would take care of everyone else. Because I knew being there wasn’t helping anyone, so…I left. But with you, you don’t have anyone else.”

Pausing, George pulled out his phone, sitting cross-legged on Dream’s sheets. Dream copied the pose, let their knees brush as a way to comfort him. For a moment, George closed his eyes after opening the messages app, sucked in a shaky breath. He looked at Dream. “I don’t…I don’t know if I can do this. It’s stupid, I should—it’s just—I don’t want to—” Cutting off, he placed a hand over his mouth, still holding onto his phone. He finally got the words out in a hushed, almost panicked pattern. “I know it might—I know you’re right but I don’t know if I want you to be. They’re my parents.”

“Hey, come here.” Dream opened his arms as an offer, and George crossed the space so they were hugging, burying his face in the crook of Dream’s neck and shoulder.

“They’re not that bad.” George whispered. Sitting back, he ran a hand into his hair. “They’re not. They can’t be, y’know? They—Dad made us cookies the other night and Mom—Mom gave me a hug.” Watching him, Dream gently took his hands, smiled at him sympathetically. “They’re not—they’re not that bad, Dream. They’ve never hit me.”

“They don’t have to hit you. Abuse isn’t just physical.” Dream whispered, and George took in another shaky breath. “George, look at me, please? Please?” Dark eyes flicked to his, and Dream smiled and gently reached for his face. He paused part of the way there, let George cross the rest of it to lean into him, and then Dream let his thumb wander over his boyfriend’s cheek. “I know you don’t want to believe it, they’re your parents. It’s hard, and it’s strange, and it changes everything you knew about them. But they’re hurting you. Maybe we don’t leave forever. Maybe…maybe we just leave for a little while, at least? So that they have the chance to change if they want to, so you can see what it’s like without them? I don’t want to force you into anything—believe me, I don’t want to. I don’t want to see you hurt. Okay?” Tilting his head down, Dream tried to meet George’s gaze again. “How does that sound, sweetheart?”

“I—I don’t know.” Sniffing, George rubbed at his face and then laughed bitterly. “I’m weak.”  
  


“You’re not. Eighteen years is not weak.”

“It wasn’t eighteen years it’s been maybe _four_. Four years because I couldn’t be straight.” Choking on tears, George started texting his sister.

“Mind if I move over here?” Dream asked, tapping the blankets by George’s side. Shaking his head, George shuffled over and Dream took up the space beside him, gently bracing an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close, rubbing his outer arm in case he needed it. Looking over George’s shoulder, he watched as the text was typed out.

**Baddest Bitch in the Universe**

**Josh is a dick don’t know why I even thought he’d be nice**

**How you doin b?**

**Fine**

**Wbu?**

“You two are horrible at making conversation,” Dream commented, kissing George’s cheek. Squeaking, George shoved him away gently, but he still let Dream come right back to his side in a moment.

**Pretty chilled out right now**

**Becca let me steal some of her clothes**

**Yo look at my “new” shirt she got the best stuff I swear**

**Good for you**

**Why haven’t you bought your own version?**

**Cause Becca’s awesome and she lets me steal hers**

**Obvi I let her take my stuff right back**

**Mum didn’t raise no thief just an arse**

**And you**

_Read 2:10 pm_

“Did you leave your sister on read?” Dream asked, and George shrugged. “You’re a bold man. I like that.”

“What? Does it make me sexy?”

“Sexier than all the sexy primes in the world.” Dream kissed his cheek. After a moment, George fake-gagged. “What?”

“That just made me think of _Transformers_ what the _fuck_ is a _sexy prime_?” He sent the message, and Dream looked at him.

“It’s—” Frowning, Dream cursed. “Fuck, I knew this off the top of my head I saw it on tumblr a while ago. Gimme a second, I’ll find it.” Bending over, he fetched his phone where it lay abandoned by his controller. Pulling it back, he cracked his spine with a satisfying series of _pops_ and _snaps_ and then rested back.

“Your posture is shit.”

“Like yours is any better.” Typing, Dream showed him and George threw his phone on the covers. “See? A sexy prime is any prime number differing by six. Like five and—”

“I can read, dumbarse.” Dream grinned the way he often did when George was about to get pinned to the mattress and kissed senseless. Sighing, he let himself be manhandled onto his back, stared up at the ceiling as Dream started kissing his neck. “Just to let you know, I am enjoying this. You don’t have to stop.”

Groaning softly, Dream started kissing a little harder, leaving a trail up to his ear and musing, “Good, I was just going to ask.” Moving to George’s mouth, he started kissing him, digging his fingers into the sensitive skin right above George’s jeans’ waistband. They broke it off for a second, taking a breath before Dream deepened it, little bolts of fire trailing beneath both of their skin wherever they touched.

After what had to be a few minutes, but felt both longer and shorter, George’s phone buzzed.

Dream started gently sucking on George’s neck where it met his shoulder, underneath his shirt collar. There was another text. “Dream. Dream, let me up.” Sighing, Dream stopped, moved away so that George could reach over. Touching his boyfriend’s face, George leaned in and kissed him, hooked one of his legs around Dream’s to keep him from going anywhere, and looked at the text. Immediately, his expression darkened, and he moved to sit up. Dream let him, shuffling to the side.

“What’s it say?” Taking a breath, George let his gaze hold on the phone for a moment. Already, his hands were shaking. “George?”

Swallowing, George turned the screen to face Dream, showing the text. Dream took the phone, squinted in on it. The words made something in his chest drop, and he glanced at George.

**Baddest Bitch in the Universe**

**Are you staying because of me? I know Mum and**

**Dad aren’t the best, but they’re not hurting you,**

**right? Like, for stuff I did in the past and that?**

**Well I mean Mum and Dad aren’t the nicest.**

**Specially to people like you.**

**Why you askin, squirt?**

Sighing, George reached over and took the phone again, texting.

**Because you seemed happier**

**At colleg**

**away from then**

**why didn’t you stay**

**What about you, sweetheart**

**ou think I’d just leve my bro like that**

**Be hnest**

**Please**

**I don’t trust tjem as far as I can throw**

**Mt Everest**

**Whys this come up bb?**

Glancing at Dream, George asked, “Can I tell her?” in a soft tone. Nodding, Dream smiled and touched his knee.

“Tell her anything you want. I’m not the one you need to worry about here.”

**Beef thinks we should leave**

**Thinks I should leave**

**But I don’t want to ditch you**

**bb you woulsn’t be ditching me**

**I got college and friends**

**I wan you to be safe**

**I don’t want to leave you**

**You won’t be**

**Give my contacts to your bf’s phone**

**Leave yours at the house**

**That way they won’t track you somehow**

George took a few, unsteady breaths. Dream’s chin settled on his shoulder. “So I have several questions, and one of them is why you called me Beef, but I’ll let that slide for now.” Touching George’s arms, Dream kissed his cheek gently. “What do you want to do, sweetheart?” For a moment, George stared down at the screen, turned the ideas over in his mind. The pros and cons, all the things he’d have to do either way.

Turning, George looked back at Dream, “I think I want to leave.”

<error 404 transition.exe not found>

George stared down at the little green progress bar as his phone slowly drained everything he needed into Dream’s computer, leaning his head back against Dream’s shoulder. Humming softly, Dream tapped his feet against George’s, legs on either side of his hips. “You know, we could book a hotel for the night. Get some stuff, have fun.” Dream suggested, and George took a breath.

“I want to get as far away from here as possible first. Is that okay?” Lips pressed to his hair. “Are you sure that you can just up and leave?”

“Yeah, this wasn’t a permanent place anyways and I was renting from a friend. Jimmy’ll take it back and probably just use it for storage space again.” Glancing at the bed, Dream added, “Although I’ll be leaving some stuff behind.”

“And you’re okay with this?” George asked, fiddling with the mouse for a second before moving on to tug at his sleeve. Arms wrapped around his waist and squeezed him tighter.

“Being with you is a dream, George.”

“No, you’re Dream.” George joked, and Dream snorted behind him before gently nibbling on his ear. “Nooo, stop trying to get me turned on. This isn’t the time.”

“We have hours to wait.”

“Dream. I’m serious. No sex tonight.” Dream’s arms loosened around him, rubbed his ribs in a gentle affirmation of _okay_ , that he wasn’t mad. Settling back against him, George closed his eyes with a vague wonder whether or not he could sleep. His heart kept spiking up with anxiety. “What if my parents track my phone?”

“We’re eighteen. Legal adults. They can’t control us if we don’t want them to.” He murmured softly, voice having that sweet, honeyed layer that settled some of the worse nerves from a sparking jump to little more than a dull murmur. “You have copies of what you need?”

“Yeah. Thankfully.” Humming softly, George settled back into Dream. “Where do you want to go first?”

“Well, we’re starting in the middle of nowhere, right?” Dream inhaled again. “Maybe we just drive anywhere.”

_“Took the midnight train going anywhere.”_ George echoed, looking back at him. “No wonder they romanticized going anywhere. It sounds pretty nice.”

“Going anywhere?” Dream asked, and George nodded. “How far would you go?”

“With you?” Tilting his head back, George smiled softly and then kissed Dream’s jaw, “The ends of the universe. Beyond that. Beyond the stars, and the moons, and every reach of the light before it all fades into nothingness and anonymity.”

“Hmm.” Taking George’s fingers, Dream mused, “Have you ever wanted to drive to any city?”

“Well, when I was younger I wanted to visit Chicago because my friend told me they had automatic toilets there.” Dream snickered, and George smiled up at him. “I know. Four-year-old me was a disaster. Seems like that’s carried into now.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” The progress bar finally managed to disappear, and Dream reached down to check that everything had been uploaded. “And now the only thing left to do is to bring that thing back to your parents’ place.”

“Or we could do one better.” Looking around, George held the phone and then looked at Dream. “I was going to throw it, but I don’t want to break your walls.” Dream laughed, then kissed him gently. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Past, present, and future.” Smiling against his lips, George took a breath. “We should probably get to figuring out what we’re going to do. Want to head to the kitchen and grab some snacks?”

“Sure. Not sleeping tonight?”

“Probably not. In the worst way.” Sighing dramatically, Dream unfolded himself from around George and slid from the bed. Grabbing the blanket, George wrapped it around himself and then glanced out the window at the rain pattering down outside. “Alright, my lovely burrito, let’s go face some of the world.”

Smiling, George waddled after him with all the speed of a penguin shuffling through a snowstorm. Dream’s kitchen was tiny, with a sink on one side, an oven on the other, and just enough room to turn around and breathe. So, instead of joining his amazing boyfriend in the kitchen, he sat at the counter and watched with his arms pillowing his head. “Have I ever told you how amazing you are?” George asked, watching as Dream moved about.

“Many, many times. What do you feel like eating? We have chicken-flavored ramen, beef-flavored ramen, shrimp—” Taking a double take, Dream wrinkled his nose. “Okay, that’s Karl’s. Uh…we have bacon, some salami and Ritz crackers and cheddar if you feel like that. I could make nachos.”

“What do we have for drinks?”

“Not alcohol.” Chuckling, George met his gaze. “Uh, Gatorade—like, red, the good blue, probably some purple and yellow. Don’t touch the yellow though, it’s gross. Might have some of the pink—strawberry-kiwi, I think.”

“Any chance you have a cigarette? I feel like disappointing my parents even more.”

“George, I don’t really like you smoking that much. Besides, we’re not going to be able to afford those.” Shuffling around in the fridge, Dream pulled out some blueberry waffles. “Feel like backwards breakfast at two in the morning?”

“Sure.” Walking over to the window, George opened it and pressed the tip of his nose to the screen, still holding the blanket around him. Something about night air hit differently, he didn’t quite know how to explain it other than that. It was just…nice. “Do you think I should take a shower before I go?”

“Tomorrow morning or later?”

“When I leave their house.” Dream thought for a moment and then sighed audibly, walking over to join George at the open window to breathe in the screen air. One of his arms made its way to wrap around George’s shoulders, and he took Dream’s hand in his own. Glancing over, he smiled. “What do you think about heading to Los Angeles? It’s two thousand miles of distance.”

Looking out at the window, at the night sky, Dream replied. “I say LA or bust, baby. Lemme just talk to some of my friends there.” Pulling George closer, Dream wrapped his arms around his stomach again, held him close and kissed his hair. “I think that’s where Sap lives now. Just you wait, we’ll leave this town. We’ll be out of here before they even think. Think you can wait a couple months?”

George’s eyes crossed the city skyline, and he closed them for a moment. He wasn’t in Dream’s tiny apartment, he wasn’t in their little town with their awful parents and judgmental stares when they went to the mall. No, though he was still in Dream’s arms, they were a thousand miles away. Somewhere they could be free. Free and _alive_ and safe.

Leaning back into Dream, he looked up and studied the way the streetlights bounced off his jawline and face, marked the freckles on his cheeks, “I’d wait a thousand lifetimes for that.”

**Author's Note:**

> lol this was meant to be a short smut fic and instead it turned into this because the idea of being able to run away from all the shit my life’s turned into in the past four years with a romantic partner who actually loves me is such a sweet sounding thing right now. Eh. Never gonna happen for me, if I’m leaving my home town it’ll be alone and probably by jumping out the window in the middle of the night
> 
> Also originally this was going to be dreambur but wil’s not a fan of smut and I respect that
> 
> Anyways I also wrote this because the recent twitter drama with dream’s ex has made me realise two things. Either dream is a very bad person and what she’s said is true or dream is an abuse victim. I wanted to do a whole analysis of it, but this is not the place. To put it simply, dream’s explanation means that he is either very good at manipulating people and was when he was fresh out of high school or he is the abuse victim and what he’s saying is true. Considering my reactions to the people who have manipulated and abused me (including slander, the hitting, that kind of thing; these weren’t romantic relationships but we were still close), and then comparing it to his? I’m inclined to believe the latter. In short, if one of his friends sees this please give the dude a hug if he lets you I think he might need one. 
> 
> Anyways 2 am air hits different and la is an unattainable dream at the moment but hey if I can get there I’ll make it. There might be a follow-up fic of this.


End file.
